


Some Valentine's Day Prompts

by defying3reason



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Preboot, Romance, Trauma, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defying3reason/pseuds/defying3reason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I asked for some prompts on Valentine's Day, and here's what my friends gave me:</p><p>Fic 1: DCU (preboot):<br/>It's Hartley's first Valentine's Day since James died, and he's struggling to cope, but he meets someone who intrigues him and spends the day chatting with them in a coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Valentine's Day Prompts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IanPeriwinkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanPeriwinkle/gifts).



**Some Time Ago…**

Piper woke up the morning of February 14th to tapping on his bedroom window, which wasn’t entirely unusual. He was friends with the Trickster, after all, and even though he’d given the man a key weeks ago and explained how to get through all his sound traps, Tricks still seemed to genuinely enjoy entering his apartment through a second floor window with the aid of his jet shoes. The best answer Piper had for the situation was that things would just never be sensible or easy with the Trickster.

He sat up in bed and yawned, blankets pooling around his lap and half his coppery hair lumped into one impressive cowlick. Piper rubbed at his eyes as he staggered across the room to open the window and let James in. He expected to be teased about his bedhead, but then he got a good look at James’ hair.

He blinked a few times.

Nope, still pink.

And not just any shade of pink. Kawaii schoolgirl Hello Kitty highlighter pink. Eyesore pink.

Piper frowned, because he’d rather liked James’ natural blond hair. He was lucky, to keep that flaxen color into adulthood, and once you dyed it, it would never look quite the same again.

“Good morning, James.”

“Good afternoon, Piper. It’s almost one o’clock.”

“Yeah, that’s morning for me.” Piper yawned again, then shuffled back to his bed and sat down. He was seriously considering dropping right back to sleep, even though there was a pink haired supervillain climbing into his room.

James shut his shoes off, and the gentle whirring of the airwalkers ceased. Now that Piper was seeing more than his head and his shoulders (and was waking up a smidge) he noticed that the day’s festivities were manifesting in more than James’ hair. He was wearing a modified Trickster costume. It was all red and pink, with silver embroidered stripes and an assortment of gaudy pink and red sequins. The cape was made from a spangly red material, but thankfully it was still all the one color. Overall though, James had somehow managed to look like more of an eyesore than usual, which was an impressive feat. Piper was pretty sure if he looked directly at James out in the sunlight he’d be blinded by all those sequins and spangles.

The guy also appeared to be trailing pink glitter and heart shaped confetti.

Piper smirked in amusement. Once he’d been frustrated by James’ antics, but it was impossible to keep up a friendship with the guy if you didn’t give him allowances for his quirks (which was true for most of the Rogues, but James was the least passive about his eccentricities).

And somehow, despite being a walking, glittering eyesore, James managed to look attractive. _How_ he looked attractive with pink hair that was so bright it practically glowed and more glitter than a craft store loaded over a shapeless, puffy costume top that didn’t even hint at the lithe young body beneath it while wearing a spangly red collared cape and spangly red pixie shoes was something Piper tried not to think about. But he was. James looked just as hot as ever.

Maybe it was the smile. James had a Hollywood pretty smile.

“So how long before you’re ready to go?” James asked, as though they were continuing a previous conversation where they’d made plans together. He looked at Piper expectantly.

Piper squinted at him out of sleep gunk covered eyes and then exaggeratedly yawned without covering his mouth.

James rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Piper. You can’t just mope around all day like a sad cat lady just because you’re single on Valentine’s Day. And no, the fact that you’ve got rats instead of cats doesn’t change a thing. You need to get out and talk to people. And I’m a person.”

“What? Are you volunteering to be my Valentine’s date?”

James’ face contorted. “Ick. Of course not. No offense, dude. I mean, if I swung that way maybe, but I don’t so no. I’m offering friendship. Friendship is an alternative to brooding.”

“A perfectly acceptable alternative. Sorry. M’still half awake.” Piper stretched out his back and then finally made the effort to rub the last of the sleepies from his eyes. “So what do you have planned?”

“A few thematically appropriate heists and some fun for the Flash when he comes to bust them up. I’ve also got some backup in case we get hauled into Iron Heights. We should be back to our respective homes by ten o’clock at the latest.”

“Sounds good. Just give me ten minutes for a shower and I’ll be ready to go.”

* * *

James’ plans for the day mostly worked out as he’d hoped. The Flash didn’t get to them until their second heist (a chocolatier-because James couldn’t be bothered to wait for the day after Valentine’s sales), but the fight with the scarlet speedster had been amusing. Piper hypnotized him into reciting love sonnets and James hit him with a bomb that encased him in a nougat cocoon.

The Flash had still beaten them, but they had fun annoying him together.

The escape from Iron Heights took a little longer than expected, so they got back to Piper’s house closer to midnight. By this point in the day’s festivities, Piper was also sporting discolored hair, but his was a dark cherry red.

“I hope this washes out.” He took off his stocking cap and tugged on a strand of obnoxiously red hair for emphasis. He liked his gentler, natural ginger color. Plus he usually had gold highlights that sun bleached very nicely in the summer months.

“Don’t worry so much, Piper. You’ll be pretty as a picture either way,” James teased. “So how was that for Valentine’s Day fun? Better than sitting around all day feeling sorry for yourself while covered in rats?”

Piper smiled. “It was much better than I expected. Thank you, James.” He had no idea how the Trickster had realized he needed to get out of his head for a day, but he was grateful either way. Piper was coming off of a bad relationship, and if James hadn’t distracted him he probably would have spent a chunk of the silly Hallmark holiday brooding…and he might have picked up the phone if Earl called him.

“You’re very welcome. I’ve got some good shit planned for St. Patrick’s Day too, if you want to get in on it. Happy V-Day, Piper!” James flashed a dazzling smile at him, then took off out the open window.

Piper allowed himself a very small sigh over his pretty straight friend while he got ready for bed. The point of all the antics they’d shared that day was that he shouldn’t mope. But James was such a good friend. Piper couldn’t help but lament the fact that they couldn’t be more…

**Presently…**

Piper woke up the morning of February 14th and struggled to drag himself out of bed. It had been many years since his vain twenty something days, long years filled with pain, horror, and loss, so his reluctance to face the day had nothing to do with being single once more and everything to do with it just being another day. He was lonely, mentally and physically scarred from the hellishness of the past few years, and he didn’t have much hope for things getting better.

But James had thrown himself in front of a hail of bullets to keep Piper alive, and he didn’t want to squander that gift. So, much like he’d been in the good old days, James was the reason Piper made an effort to face the world when he’d have rather hid and brooded. Piper wished James was still accomplishing this by tugging Piper out of the house with ridiculous plans and a winning smile, but a martyred memory was unquestionably effective.

Okay, he was being unduly morose. Things were a teensy bit better than they’d been for the last few years. Piper and Wally had tracked each other down and had a long overdue talk. Their friendship had been reconciled and Piper was in with the heroes again, which was a nice change of pace. He’d restored and sold his parents’ house and was living in a nice enough building just a few streets over from Wally and his family. He babysat the twins a few times a week, backed Wally up on superheroics, met Linda and Iris for lunch and a bitchfest about their boys, and some days he didn’t even feel all that achingly alone.

Inevitably though, when he got back to his solitary little home and turned off the light to go to bed the false memory Blacksmith had given him of murdering his parents would play through his head, or he’d get a replay of the horrors of Apokolips, or he’d see James jumping in front of those damned bullets…

So, like most mornings, he began February 14th feeling dangerously miserable but, unlike a typical day where he didn’t mind picking up the phone and calling a friend for the help they continuously offered, he didn’t want to burden any of the couples he knew with his morose presence when they were trying to celebrate their love. He had so few friends, and they were all happily married so they were undoubtedly actually celebrating Valentine’s Day.

Piper showered, dressed himself, and sat down in the living room with some of his rats. He thought about turning on the TV or making breakfast, but instead he just ended up sitting.

A great deal of time must have passed when he was in that state of lethargy. His cellphone startled him when it rang. While he fumbled to answer it he noticed that the sun was much higher in the sky than he’d expected. It was already past noon.

“H-hello?”

“Hi, Hartley. Are you busy with anything?” It was Iris. Piper was a little surprised to be hearing from her, as he was pretty sure she and Barry had had plans that involved a day trip, but then it wasn’t unusual for the Flash to be derailed.

It wasn’t advisable of him to let himself _be_ derailed when his workaholic superstar journalist wife had taken a rare day off for the sake of romance, but that was another story. Frankly, much as he’d grown to enjoy her company since reforming, Iris Allen scared the crap out of Piper and he couldn’t imagine being brave enough to risk disappointing her in husbandly duties. Piper had always known his former adversary was brave, but sometimes he wondered if maybe the man wasn’t brave so much as kind of oblivious about some things…

Considering how thoroughly Wally had always hero-worshipped his uncle, a certain amount of obliviousness on Barry’s part would explain _a lot_.

“No, I’m just…just hanging in today. Why? Are you and Barry not heading to that bed and breakfast anymore?”

The sound of exasperation she made was answer enough, but she explained anyway. “He took a space mission. A fucking space mission with Green Lantern, because ‘you know sweetie, he’s single this year and you _know_ how he gets when he’s lonely and I just didn’t think it was a good idea to let him go alone, and you won’t _really_ care because you don’t get caught up in that kind of silly consumer driven stuff-‘”

“Oh, he didn’t try to pull one of my socialist talking points,” Hartley said gleefully.

“He did. And he pulled it off about as convincingly as if you were trying to enthuse over the merits of capitalism. He clearly has no idea what I gave up to get this time off. This is the perfect time for one of those fresh from journalism school new hire puppies to swoop in and steal my spotlight. I don’t think he realizes how cutthroat journalism has gotten in the digital age. Of course, he never really noticed how cutthroat it was in the old days either. Although he certainly noticed that giving me first dibs on reporting his superhero antics was a great way to flirt with a reporter.”

“That he was already dating.”

“And lying to. Clever man. He’s lucky he’s so pretty, because of course I’m going to forgive him. And I suppose it is sweet that he’s taking care of H-uh, GL-”

“I know three of the Green Lanterns’ secret identities, Iris.” Thanks to the superhearing and his memory for speech patterns and inflections, he’d put together quite a few superhero identities, whether he was personally acquainted with them or not. “I’d also appreciate a head’s up if Hal Jordan ever pings your gaydar. I swear he’s too hot and well groomed to really be straight.”

“Your gaydar continues to have interesting standards. Mayhaps your reliance on stereotypes might have something to do with the abundance of inconvenient straight friend crushes you wind up with?”

Piper scowled. “Linda told you about that, huh?”

“You’re also really obvious when you’re into someone and we’re both reporters. It is legitimately our job to be nosey and observant. A question though. Do you just have a thing for the skintight black bodysuit and domino mask look?”

“Just because I’ve noticed that Green Lantern and Nightwing are hot doesn’t mean I have a type. I’m pretty sure everyone has a crush on Nightwing to at least some extent.”

“I’m immune because I met him when he was still my nephew’s eighth grader best friend. But he is quite charming, I’ll give you that. So, Hartley…do you have any actual plans for the day or are you just moping around with your rats and your unhealthily expansive record collection?”

Being friends with reporters was almost as unsettling as being friends with detectives. Sometimes he felt like Iris and Linda knew more about him than he himself did.

“Music can be therapeutic you know.”

“Mm, especially if you can muster the initiative to get off the couch and actually put something on.”

Eerily perceptive, those reporters.

“I’m going to head down to that café by the used bookstore in downtown Keystone. I was hoping you might meet me for coffee,” Iris continued.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great. I’ll see you in…let’s say half an hour?”

“Sounds good. Bye.” Piper hung up, and only took another five minutes to rouse himself from his morose staring contest with a blank piece of wall.

If he’d been in a better mood, he might have reflected on how his twenty year old self would react to the thought of spending Valentine’s Day with his arch-nemesis’ love interest. Come to think of it, twenty-something Piper wouldn’t have cared all that much, because even back then he’d thought Iris West was pretty cool.

A bit scary though. He’d never understood why Len had thought taking her hostage was a good idea.

* * *

Usually Iris was obsessively punctual, which was one of many features that made her happy marriage to Barry Allen something of a mystery. Not only was Iris habitually on time, but tardiness in others was one of her pet peeves. Accordingly, Piper got to the café ten minutes before she was supposed to be there, just in case.

He ordered a latte, found a table, and sat down with a book to wait.

And waited…

The book was pretty good, so it took Piper a little while to realize that this was one of those rare occasions when Iris Allen was running late. He checked the time on his phone and noticed that she was almost a full five minutes late already, which was like twenty minutes late for normal people.

“Huh. I wonder if everything’s okay,” he mumbled to himself. He turned his attention back to his book, but contemplated getting on his smartphone and seeing if anything major was going on in Central that might slow Iris down on her way to Keystone. Because if psychic gorillas had infested the city again or something he might need to head out to his car and grab his work clothes.

“Excuse me, is anyone using this chair?” A handsome, well-dressed man with a pile of papers and books under one arm asked, motioning to the chair Piper had been saving for Iris.

“Someone is supposed to be meeting me, but she’s already really late so go nuts.”

“Thank you. It’s remarkably crowded in here today.”

“Yeah. Well, I mean it is Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, that’s right. I suppose most of these people are on dates then.” The man glanced around the café, seeming to notice the hand holding, vapid smiles, and under table footsie for the first time. He frowned as something occurred to him. “You’re not being stood up for a date, are you?”

Piper couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I wish. It’d mean someone actually agreed to go on a date with me to begin with. No, I’m just waiting on a friend. Her husband flaked out on their Valentine’s plans so she did what any straight woman with a token gay friend does.”

“Call up the shopping buddy to commiserate. I’ve thankfully avoided that by only being out to a handful of people.”

Piper looked at the man with renewed interest. Maybe Iris had had a point about his gaydar being faulty, because this man hadn’t pinged it at all.

And he’d just told Piper he was gay too, even though he apparently didn’t come out to many people…was the handsome well-dressed man with gorgeous hair and nice teeth trying to flirt with him? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. Once upon a time, Piper had been fairly decent looking (attractive by normal people standards but rather plain by superhero standards), but long years of hardship had taken a toll on his looks. He’d never managed to get himself back to a healthy weight after that year of malnourishment on the run with James, and so he looked gaunt and perpetually tired, with prematurely greyed hair and frown lines and crow’s feet a bit too prominent for a man in his thirties. It didn’t seem realistic to him that this stranger could be into him.

“There don’t seem to be any open tables. Do you mind if I sit with you until your friend arrives?”

“Go ahead.” Piper pulled his mug closer to him to make room for the gorgeous man’s pile of papers and books. They sat in silence for a little bit, Piper paying more attention to the stranger than his book but giving the impression that he was riveted by the rather depressing study of the Scottsboro Boys in his hands.

He was pretty sure he saw the stranger glance up at him a few times and then hurriedly turn his attention back to his papers. One of the books had the rather depressing title ‘Reading the Silences of Violent Crime Scenes: What Victims Can Tell You When Their Words Have Been Stolen.’ He worried for a moment that the handsome man had some kind of worrying fixation on serial killers or something, but then he noticed the official looking paperwork and guessed the guy was actually employed by the police department. It seemed much more likely that he was simply the kind of person to bring his work home with him.

“I’ve got a macchiato for David,” the barista called, and the handsome man excused himself to get his drink. While he was gone, Piper got a text from Iris excusing her lateness. She’d been roped into taking Jai shopping for a school project he’d conveniently forgotten about until the last possible minute, and now it looked like she was going to be spending the afternoon building a diorama with a cranky ten year old instead of bitching about her husband. She invited him to join in, if he wished.

Piper glanced up from his phone and watched the sexy, intelligent, and gay stranger gracefully navigate his way through a maze of tables with a full mug of scalding caffeine, and quickly typed out an answering text about something coming up for him as well.

“Is that your friend?” David asked as he resumed his seat across from Piper.

“Yeah, she had to cancel. The chair’s all yours for as long as you need it.”

David smiled, showing a row of fabulously straight teeth (Piper always had been a sucker for a nice smile), and then settled in with his intriguingly morbid reading material.

Over the course of the next hour or so they ended up being pulled into conversation. Piper didn’t try for it, but when David asked him questions about his book they found themselves on common ground fairly quickly. After all, Piper was reading about a sensationalistic criminal trial, albeit for different reasons than David would have. The guy worked at a crime lab, and was as passionate about his job as Piper was about music.

Even though David was mostly interested in talking about the case from the perspective of legal history, Piper got in a fair few comments about social justice, and inevitably the conversation drifted from racial issues to LGBT rights. His companion was a far cry from being an engaged activist, but he was a knowledgeable spectator with an investment in the cause.

“I’d like to be doing more,” he confessed. “If I wasn’t so concerned about getting fired, I would.”

“Mm. It’d be nice if we could get some form of ENDA to pass at a federal level.”

“Missouri certainly won’t be changing its tune without federal pressure.” David sighed. “I donate anonymously to LGBT groups here and there, and I’m trying to tell myself that that’s enough, but…well, at the end of the day I know I’m just buying some conscience.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Piper said. “I mean, I could never live in the closet myself but I wouldn’t dream of judging anyone else who had to. Sometimes peoples’ circumstances don’t allow for that kind of openness, which is more of a tragedy for the person in the closet than anyone else.”

“Yes, well feel all the compassion you’d like, but I’m guessing as an intelligent, well-spoken activist you wouldn’t date someone in the closet.”

Piper’s involuntary scowl at the thought must have been answer enough. David smirked. “See? That’s probably a bigger regret for me than my failure to advocate for equality. I’d like to date a man worth dating, and fellow closet cases have proven poor company.”

“That’s too bad. If you were out, I can’t imagine you’d have any problems finding a date at all.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure. Short tempered workaholics have plenty of issues without the hindrance of the closet and a strict old country family to contend with. But you must do rather well, being a dashing LGBT icon and a costumed vigilante. I bet a lot of men find that rather romantic.”

So he did know who Piper was. Honestly, he would have been surprised if David didn’t, but it was the first mention he’d made of Piper’s very public, unfortunately notorious life.

Piper smirked and made an iffy motion with his hand. “Nah. I mean, there’s a decent amount of interest, but mostly from fixated thrill seekers. Guys who think they know you because they read a few interviews you did for the Advocate forever and a day ago, or who think it’d be exciting to be your kidnapped love interest when an arch-nemesis I don’t even have tries to set off a master plan. Because seriously, no one has a hate grudge against the Pied Piper. I get my life ruined as an afterthought while psychos are targeting the Flash. No one pays that much attention to me otherwise.”

“Forgive me for asking, but why do you keep doing it?”

Piper shrugged his shoulders. “The costume’s been my life longer than it hasn’t, at this point. I really don’t know what else to do with myself. Besides…when things aren’t going to hell, I do like helping people.”

“Fair enough.”

From there the conversation turned lighter, until eventually both men forgot they’d even brought books with them. At some point Piper’s tired blue eyes were entirely entranced by David’s warm brown ones, to the point where he honestly forgot there was anyone else in the café. In fact, quite a few passersby assumed they were one of the many Valentine’s Day couples getting a quick treat before a romantic night out.

Piper’s phone went off with a few texts, but he didn’t notice.

They were roused from their pleasant companionship by the baristas announcing that the café was closing. Feeling a bit silly for getting so lost in an un-dateable (but dreamy) closet case, Piper gathered up his things and started for the door. He muttered a shy goodbye to his companion on his way out.

He was stopped at his car by a hesitant touch to his shoulder. He turned around and found David awkwardly standing there looking a bit lost. “I…just realized that I’m not sure what to call you. Do you go by your real name or your alias?”

“Both, actually. But I prefer Piper to Hartley.”

“Okay. Well, Piper…I had a really great time talking to you today. That is, I mean…I don’t usually communicate so easily with people. I really appreciate the way you listened to me and didn’t jump down my throat or shut down when we weren’t in agreement.”

“Oh. Well I actually really like intellectual debating, so ditto. I had a good time too.” It looked like David had more to say, so he waited and tried to be patient.

“I know you made your preferences about closeted guys very clear earlier, and I understand where you’re coming from, but I still wanted to ask you if you wanted to get coffee with me again sometime anyway. It could be a friendly thing, if you wanted to keep it there.”

Piper blinked a few times, very rapidly, opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again. He couldn’t have heard that right.

David looked more uncomfortable than ever. “I…I’m sorry. That was presumptuous of me. But I would like to be friends, at least.”

“No, no-no-no, I’m not rejecting you. I’m trying to process you. More specifically, I’m trying to process you asking me out. Really? Me?”

“Oh.” David smiled, not a toothy one but a sexy one nonetheless. “Of course, you. I find you intriguing, Piper. And I promise, I’m not looking to be your damsel in distress and I’ve never read a single interview you’ve done for the Advocate.”

Piper laughed at that. “Okay, sure. We can definitely meet for coffee.”

They traded numbers, and both men left for their cars smiling stupidly and reflecting at how differently the day had gone than they’d expected.

The next day, Piper wound up having lunch with Iris and Linda at the West house. Irey was running around the yard letting off some energy while Jai was stressing over the speech that went along with the diorama Iris had essentially made for him while trying to help him, so the adults were actually having a pretty good time chatting with each other with only minimal interruptions from the children.

Linda and Iris were dominating the conversation with a pissing match over whose husband had more endearingly put his foot in his mouth while trying to be romantic on the big day, so Piper sat on his news while he listened and giggled at the antics of his hetero friends. At least Wally hadn’t bought Linda a kitchen appliance for a gift this year…though the self-serving game system probably hadn’t been any better an idea.

Piper was still waiting to tell them about his upcoming date when he got a text. Things had gotten jostled around when Linda brought the food out, so Piper’s phone was actually closer to Iris’ elbow than his own. She went to hand him his phone, but her eyebrows lifted when she saw the number flashing on the screen.

“Hartley, why in the world is Barry’s new boss texting you?”

Piper stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Barry’s new boss…?” And then he remembered that David worked on crime scenes. He’d talked about it at length, actually.

David was a forensic scientist.

Piper’s face split into a grin. “So let me tell you about what happened while I was waiting for you at the café yesterday…”

* * *

The Trickster being the Trickster, death could only prove a temporary state. He conned his way back to the land of the living, though it had taken him a bit longer than he’d hoped.

His first concern when he got back was to check on Piper. He’d always liked the guy, back when they’d been Rogues and while they’d reformed together, but the casual friendship they’d shared had increased in intensity a hundredfold during their time on the run. James had been seriously worrying about his friend even before that last fatal encounter with Deadshot, so when he found himself once more among the living and realized that he’d left Piper shackled to a dead body in the middle of nowhere he felt a strong urgency to see how the guy had made out.

It didn’t take much effort to track him down. He was pleased to discover that Piper’s identity was public again and that he was running with the Flashes. He’d been happiest as a superhero, so James was glad that seemed to be working out for him again. He still wanted to check in on him though. James had resurrected himself just before Valentine’s Day, and if memory served, Piper always had a hard time with that holiday. He tried to mask it by complaining about rampant capitalism and made up corporate holidays, but James had sniffed out pretty early into their friendship that Piper was lonely and would have liked someone to snuggle with (though he would have excoriated any date foolish enough to try to bring him chocolates or flowers).

He skipped out on the holiday themed costume or pink hair this time (to Piper’s dismay, the cherry red dye hadn’t been as semi-permanent as he’d hoped, and he’d lost his golden highlights until his hair grew out again). But James did grab airwalkers before tracking down Piper’s address. He ran up to the second floor, prepared to tap on the bedroom window and invite himself in to share the good news about his resurrection and invite Piper to engage in a day of distracting buffoonery.

The Trickster was more than a little surprised when he peered inside and saw that the man wasn’t alone. It was well before noon, so Piper was still in bed, of course, but he was sharing that bed with a good looking guy about his age, and they appeared to both be naked.

James wasn’t trying to be a peeping tom, but his surprise had paralyzed him. As he watched, Piper’s companion sleepily flung an arm around him and pulled him closer. Piper was out like a light, but he cuddled up to his lover in his sleep, a serene smile on his careworn face.

James smiled. “Good for you, Hartley.”

He took off to get his affairs in order, leaving the mysterious stranger in charge of Piper for the day. James had plenty of his own shit to deal with, what with the sudden resurrection, and it didn’t look like he had to worry about Hartley spending the whole day moping for once.

 

%MCEPASTEBIN%


End file.
